Bubbles
by Valefor
Summary: Boba Fett and a bath tub. I don't know if this is humorous, but my sense of humor is all but dead at a little earlier than 3 in the morning...


It was New Years Day, a little past 1 AM when the thought hit me: does the almighty Boba Fett-sama ever take bubble baths? o_o;; Don't ask me why that came into my head, but it did. Maybe it's all the sushi I've been eating lately... Anyway, NO, this isn't anything hentai (I'm not like that :P), it's just.... odd, I guess.

**NOTE**: For anyone who's curious, this fic has been replaced once. The body text's font was a tad small so I fixed it. ^_^ Happy!

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He didn't know exactly _why_ he wanted the tub on the _Slave I_ at first, but now that he thought about it, he was glad it was there. Stuffed within a cramped make-shift bathroom by his personal quarters was the plain white ceramic bath tub, clean and fresh from wherever bath tubs were made. It was a curiosity to Fett, something he knew well about but never really acknowledged.

After all, what's a bounty hunter to do with a bath tub?

Fett found himself standing in the doorway between his ship and the tub. That's how he thought of it; outside of that little room was the cold steel and clean emptiness that was his domain. Inside, there was... a bath tub. It would sit there in silence while his ship hummed around him, performing the various tasks he would set it to do. Calculate hyperspace trajectories, calibrate the weapons and defense systems, plot courses around the galaxies.

But the tub didn't do... anything.

_"Come on in, sugah_," he could almost hear the tub say. _"Why dun'chu take ah nice warm little trip with me now?"_

The first time he thought he heard it, he smashed his head on one of the many walls available in the bowels of the _Slave I_. The second time, he did the same. The third, the same. The fourth, the fifth, the sixth, the same.

On the seventh time, he forced himself to speak back to it.

"I don't have time," he muttered bluntly to the white lump of smooth ceramic.

_"... What'chu mean, you dun have time? You be worrying all 'bout me talkin' to you for the past week or so, haven'cha?"_

The fact that the voice spoke to him in an odd accent was painfully evident to him. _Why am I hallucinating this, of all things?_ Despite himself, and the cold logic that bound his every action, he crossed his armor-clad arms over his chest. "No. No, I haven't. I've other things to worry about other than some piece of crap that's sitting in my ship." And with that, he turned and started back to the cockpit.

_"What?!"_

Fett froze.

_"What'chu mean by that? I don't _mean_ anythin' to you?! I wouldn't be callin' _me_ a piece of crap, child, when you oughta take a look at cho'self and cho' funky get-up,_" snapped the voice. _"Now, when you feelin' sorry, dun be crying to me; I just lost all mah respect fo' you."_

The bounty hunter glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrowed beneath the thin T-slit that cut through his Mandalorian helmet. Why was he hallucinating a tub loosing respect for him?

_"Now, dun be trying to look'it me like that, lil' man_," the tub cried. _"You jus' go on and deal with whateva's more important to ya'."_

..._what? ... I think I need sleep..._

Boba Fett sighed and took another step forward before the voice of the tub called after him again.

"_Boy, you sure do need sleep. Come on, now, this would be a perfect time fo' us to make up! We can get to know each other, too, ya' know? Be friends and all that good stuff."_

He was really starting to freak himself out. Again, going against his steely logic, he turned on his heel and simply stared inside that creepy little room. For a moment, he swore he saw the golden faucet that curved from one end upturned like the head of a serpent, watching him and waiting for him to come closer. Fett tilted his head at the little faucet.

_"Come on, now, what'chu waitin' for? Go get you some water, since I'm not hooked up to anything!"_

"Might as well," Fett muttered beneath his breath. Feeling odd (and who wouldn't feel odd if they had a bathtub talking to them), he turned again and trudged his way below deck to search for a bucket.

~~~

A fine layer of condensing water droplets clung on the dull silver walls and Boba Fett stood half-naked in the doorway, hesitant about approaching the bath tub in such a vulnerable state. He acknowledged that much, and damned himself because of it. _Freaked out yourself this time, huh? Getting creeped out by a bath tub... Pah. I'm getting old..._

"_It's not yo' age, sugah, you jus' too up-tight,"_ retorted the tub.

"Shut up, I wasn't talking to you."

"_Heh! You're not?"_

"..."

"_Hehe... Now, I'm sorry, so commere! You jus' gonna stand there in your boxers?"_

Fett sighed. He had discarded most of his armor and clothing, leaving him in an old pair of boxers and his helmet.His steps were slow as he walked to the tub, reaching up to pull the battered helmet from his head. His bare feet felt sticky in the steaming room.

"_Thas' right, sugah, dun be all freaked out now. Once you get in, we can jus' talk."_

He bent down slightly and set the helmet down on the ground beside the tub, only partially aware that he was staring wide-eyed at the bathroom fixture. Maybe he _was_ going insane with all the paranoia he had crammed up in his head... His reflection stared back at him with a blank expression, rippling slightly beneath the single light that hung high above.

Eventually, Fett got to letting his undergarment drop to his ankles. He felt very uncomfortable about it as he stepped out of them and into the hot water, moving slowly and carefully like a dragon laying himself to rest amid a bed of flames. The tub's interior was smooth, but not slick enough to have him slip, but he eased himself down gently all the same. When he managed to get himself sitting cross-legged, he swore he heard the low hiss of the tub sighing at him.

"_You in a _bath_, mista. You can relax now."_

"I'm going to relax when I'm talking to myself?"

"_Who says you talkin' to yo'self? Maybe you not as crazy as you think. Just... relax, ok, sugah?"_

"... Fine." Moving with an erratic jerk, he forced himself from sitting up to partly lying back against the curved interior of the tub. His slender arms rose from the water to perch along the sides rather casually.

"_See? Isn't that better? This isn't so bad after all, huh?"_

_ "_... No, I suppose not," he admitted at a low mumble.

"_.... you know what'chu need right now?"_

"What?"

"_Some bubbles!" _The tub was enthusiastic as it snickered and added, "_Bubbles are a big part of a bath, ya know..."_

"I don't have any bubbles."

_"Well, that's just a shame. Figures, I guess, with a hard-ass like you." _The tub snickered again. "_And a _nice_ hard ass ya' gots there, by the way."_

"... I'd appreciate it if you didn't comment."

"_What? Ya' dun like getting compliments like that?"_

"... Just not used to it."

_... what the hell am I doing?_

Both the tub and himself were silent for a long while. Fett sunk a bit further into the refreshing heat of the water, resting the back of his head beside the faucet and dials that stuck out from the white. He stared across the tub to his feet just barely poking up from beneath the surface, and, as if to test if he could, wiggled his toes at himself.

Oddly enough, he felt a grin cross his lips.

_"I guess you haven't done that in a long time, by the way you grinnin' 'bout it,"_ said the tub.

"No. It's been a while."

_"... odd thing, that is."_

Disregarding that comment, he glanced straight down. The bleary reflecting of his hard face looked right back up at him, meeting stern gaze with stern gaze. Fett didn't know why but he felt.. entranced, almost, fascinated by the human watching him as he watched it. Scars half remembered, expressions nearly forgotten...

"... I'm not all that bad looking, I guess."

_ "Eh?"_ said the tub.

"... I should go out more."

_"That's not a bad idea. I think your ship's callin' ya'."_

Fett blinked. The voice dispelled immediately, replaced by a constant droning beeping from somewhere higher in the ship's architecture. He knew by heart every sound for every action or warning the ship could blurt at him, so he recognized the high pitched noise as simply a warning of an incoming message via holo-net. Nothing important, most certainly. Nothing that would require his dragging himself out of his bath.

"It can wait," Boba Fett whispered to no one in particular. "I rather like this..."

He waited for a moment. The tub didn't reply, but rather stood there bearing his weight with the water that pooled in it. Silent, like it was when he had first lugged it aboard.

Boba Fett smiled and closed his eyes, wishing that he had bubbles after all.

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... I don't know if that was supposed to mean anything, but it sounds OK to me at a quarter to 3 in the morning. ^_^;;; Hope you all enjoyed and will bless humble ol' me with your reviews and comments! 'Twould be much appreciated. 


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